


Nothing Really Bad

by limey_limey



Series: Filling in the blanks [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Gen, sad babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26728678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limey_limey/pseuds/limey_limey
Summary: I've always wondered what happened to make baby Catra be hiding under that blanket in Promise - so I wrote it.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Filling in the blanks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954450
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	Nothing Really Bad

The ball of tears and fur flew through the doors of the bunk room, throwing herself onto the familiar mattress. She wished it was dark so she could hide, not let anyone see how small and weak she really was. Fat tears still rolling down her face, mismatched eyes flicking frantically around the room, she grasped the familiar blue blanket and sat with it covering her from head to knee, shoulders shaking with fear, panic and sorrow. If nobody could see her she’d be ok.

In the comforting darkness of the blanket, surrounded by the scent of the only person who treated her with kindness, Catra tried to push the voices away. No matter how hard she tried she could still hear the other children in the mess hall laughing at her. Taunting her as her ration bar skidded across the room. Cheering as the crack of Shadow Weavers hand impacting her face echoed around the steely room. 

She was a useless animal. They all knew it. They all saw her failures and her punishments. 

Every time her claws made her fumble because she forgot to pull them back, or when her tail tripped another cadet, they reminded her with vicious words and bruising touches they she was nothing to them but an inconvenient pet.

Her mismatched eyes, already filled with tears, squeezed more tightly shut as her tiny fangs ground down, almost drawing blood from her lip. Even at barely five years old she knew that there was nobody else like her here. From her very first memories of staring up, wide eyes from a box with no words and no idea of who or what she was, she had been surrounded by humans, lizard hybrids and elfin creatures. Even those with fur or gills were not as she was. The lizards didn’t bask in the sun, the octopi failed to shift colour when they were startled. Yet Catra felt compelled to purr, curl into balls, run her claws along hard surfaces and lick her own wounds. 

She knew she was controlled by her animal side. She had seen the small cats running around, having crept in to hunt rats and roaches that scuttled around the kitchens and barracks at night. She had studied them with wide eyes and seen herself.

Sometimes people called her Adora’s ‘pet’. She wasn’t sure what a pet was, but she thought it might mean that she belonged to the other girl. Nobody else seemed to be called that. Rogelio wasn’t Lonnie’s pet. But Lonnie didn’t treat Rogelio like Adora treated her.

The sobs only intensified as she pulled her feet up until the blanket shielded very part of her but the top of her unruly head.

She just needed to be more like Adora, she told herself. She told herself that a lot. Whenever she watched as Shadow Weaver crouched to talk softly to the blond, gently run her hand along a pink cheek or tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. If only she could be a good girl, she would get those soft touches and not the stinging slaps and shouting that made her ears pin to her head to avoid the ringing pain it brought.

She wouldn’t feel the burning lightning that licked around her body and made even her fur achingly throb. Those were new touches. When Shadow Weaver would pull her away and talk too softly, almost a hiss before the painful light would arc out of her fingers. Catra hadn’t told Adora about that. She was embarrassed. She didn’t want Adora to hate her like everybody else seemed to. She was a big girl, she shouldn’t be weak. 

So why couldn’t she stop being an animal?

Why couldn’t she stop crying?

Without her permission her ears swivelled towards the open doorway as she picked up the sound of feet thundering down the metal hallway. That fast, stumbling gait could only belong to one person. She wasn’t sure if she was happy that Adora had looked for her or scared to be seen in her shame.

“Catra,” Adora breathlessly skidded to a halt in the doorway, eyes seeking her friend in the empty room.

Noticing the blue, shuddering lump perched on her bed, the little girl carefully walked in and crouched in front of her. She knew Catra almost as well as she knew herself, knew that if she wasn’t careful the younger girl would lash out with her claws, maybe even catch her and draw blood. The feline would feel even worse about that. Tentatively, she reached forward, slow enough that the other girl would know what was happening, the blanket was pulled down to reveal and tear stained face, eyes still glassy.

A loud hiss and bared fangs greeted Adora, but no claws. It was like Catra couldn’t even look at her, her eyes still squeezed tightly closed as her bowed down.

“Catra, it’s ok. It’s just me.” She moved to sit beside her, shoulders touching. “It doesn’t matter what they do to us, you know? You look out for me,” she touched her own chest, “and I look out for you,” she touched Catra. “Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other.”

“You promise?” Catra’s eyes blinked open, ears twitching, as she looked at her favourite person in her own tiny world.

“I promise.” The soft look that covered Adora’s face made Catra’s heart swell, she let the blanket fall to the bed and rested her shaggy head against Adora’s shoulder.

When Adora pulled her to her feet and began to pull her from the room, Catra didn’t resist. If Adora said everything would be fine, it would. No matter what. Maybe one day she would be just like her friend.


End file.
